


Finding the Weak Spots

by peet4paint



Category: Glee
Genre: Bondage, Cock Rings, Dildos, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peet4paint/pseuds/peet4paint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes accuracy, is the thing.  Accuracy, precision, patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding the Weak Spots

It takes accuracy, is the thing. Accuracy, precision, patience. Kurt slides his finger just a centimeter further in, then another.

“Christ,” Puck says, looking at Kurt over his shoulder. “Are we going to get to the fucking sometime tonight, or am I just gonna grow old and die here waiting for you to finally _get on with it_.”

Kurt reaches down, snaps the cock-ring tighter. “If you don’t learn some patience you won’t come tonight, Noah,” he says.

“Fuck,” Puck says, voice gone high and whiny. “Fuck, why don’t you just cut it off already?”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Kurt asks, trailing a finger over the tip of Puck’s cock. “If I’m going to have you to play with, Noah, I’m going to have all of you.” He pushes the other finger in further—further. And there. There it is.

Puck goes tight, tense—then he relaxes. All at once gone suddenly boneless.

“Shhh,” Kurt says, nudging _there_. Right _there_. Quick thrusts back and forth until Puck’s a writhing mess, practically vibrating where he stands. “That’s right,” Kurt says. “That’s just perfect.”

Kurt lets up, lets his finger slip, slip, slip out of Puck. He turns to the sink. Washes his hands in hot water.

Puck is hanging from his arms when Kurt turns back around. He probably couldn’t even stand. Just sort of dangles there in the doorway, wrists supporting his full weight.

“Noah, Noah, Noah,” Kurt says, sighs. “What am I supposed to do with you? Do you want to continue? Or do you want to wait for another night?”

“What?” Puck says, voice coming out a yelp. “No! Fuck, No.” He pushes himself up, standing on shaky legs. “ ‘m good. It’s good. Keep going.” After a minute of Kurt not doing anything, not saying anything, Puck tries to twist around, tries to face him. “Kurt?”

Kurt’s hand lands on him then, tracing a long path up his spine and down again. “All right, Noah,” Kurt says. “All right. Tell me. What do you want? What do you need?”

“Y-you,” Puck says, choking on the word. “Whatever you want to—uh—to give me.”

“Nice sentiment, Noah,” Kurt says backing away, “but try again. What do _you_ need?”

“I—“ Puck says, then he swallows hard, back gone rigid. “ ‘m just so—fuck—‘s just, I feel so. So—empty.”

“Shhh,” Kurt says. “It’s all right. It’s all right. I’ve got you.” He hugs Puck from behind, warm and tight. Then he’s letting go. Reaching down. Grabbing what he needs.

The dildo is small. Puck had laughed when he saw it. Asked Kurt if he thought Puck wasn’t man enough to take the real thing. But in his eyes, there’d been—relief.

Kurt puts the condom on it. He slicks it all up. Then he’s sliding it in, in until it hits—right—there.

Puck’s head bows forward, muscles standing out strangely all over his back. “Yeah,” he says, soft. Like he’s afraid for Kurt to hear. Like he’s afraid to say it.

“Just imagine, Noah,” Kurt says, slipping a hand around Puck’s body—tugging his nipple ring. Moving down—tugging on the head of Puck’s cock. “Imagine how it’s going to feel when this is real.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “How it’s going to feel when it’s my cock fucking into you.” He slides the dildo in and out fast.

“Christ!” Puck says, body tensing in whole new ways, spurting precome. “Jesus, more. Fuck, Kurt. Gimme more. Please? Fuck.”

Kurt slides the dildo out, out, until it’s barely breaching Puck. Until it’s just the tip barely entering him. Puck tries to push back, but he doesn’t have enough leverage. “Please,” he says again.

And then Kurt’s sliding it in. Sliding it in and in, nudging Puck’s prostrate over and over. “Just imagine the first time I fuck you. How you’ll just open up for me. Spread wide open. How you’ll beg for it. How you’ll beg for me.”

Puck goes tense again—or still maybe—and between one second and the next he’s coming—spurting on Kurt’s hand and Puck’s thigh and the _door_ jamb. Kurt holds him again—holds him still as he shudders and shakes with it.

And then Puck’s crying—saying, “Jesus, take it off me. Get it off. Kurt? Please?”

Kurt’s confused for a second. Wonders when precisely Puck got so upset about the dildo in his ass. But then he remembers, the cock ring.

“Sorry,” Kurt yelps. “Sorry.” He slides his hands down and works his fingers over the cock-ring until he finds the latch.

“Thank fuck,” Puck says, breathes out. He shudders once all over.

Kurt reaches up, detaches Puck’s arms from the doorway. He reaches down then, goes to slip the dildo out. But then Puck writhes, says, “Jesus, yeah.”

“Yeah?” Kurt asks.

“Yeah,” Puck says. Kurt’s about to start fucking the dildo into Puck again when Puck reaches back, stops him. “Only, this time, let’s do it on the bed.”

Kurt feels a smile curl across his face. “Okay. I can work with that.”

“And—“ Puck looks back at him then, a little pleading. “This time.” He licks his lips, starts again. “This time, lose the dildo.”

Kurt’s smile spreads. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Puck says, smiling back. “Oh, yeah.”


End file.
